From potter heads to batter heads
by evileasterrabbit
Summary: The harry Potter team are going cooking! They'll be tears, questions of intents, but the most important thing of all... will Voldemorts chefs hat fit on his overly large head! read and find out!


Hellooooo! Thanks for clickin on this story! Its basically the Harry Potter peeps on a cooking show, Who will fail and who will be crowned Hogwarts next Triwizard cookingship champion?

**Let the games begin!**

**I don't own Harry Potter or the Triwizard championship plot line. Or Barbies.**

" I'm hungry, moaned Ronald Weasly, clutching his stomach.

Harry Potter looked up but did not respond, he was far to busy giving Barbie and Ken a romantic ride on their my little pony.

Hermione Granger gave him a disparaging look over the book she was reading.

"You're always hungry, Ronald"

Ron looked quite hurt at this statement and looked to his friend Harry Potter for support.

"Ron's right, 'mione, it's not his fault that his mum, the most wonderful cook in the world has gone away for a holiday".

" I think its very nice that Mrs Weasly has gone away, she deserves a break after looking after you lot! "

Ron's ears turned as pink as a Barbie dolls wedding dress.

"Well, if you're so _clever at cooking _why don't you go whip something delicious up?"

Hermione flounced of the bed, letting her thick book fall to the floor. (Thankfully Harry, who was looking for a missing Barbie shoe, caught it; otherwise Hermione would have been in BIG trouble from the Hogwarts librian, Madam Pince.)

Hermione stormed out the door, calling; " Maybe I will!"

"She's got her work cut out for her, I'm telling you mate."

Harry did not respond for a moment.

" Ronnie, you're sitting on my Barbie shoe!"

One hour later

"Come on hermione, its not that bad!"

Hermione was in hysterics. " I just blew up your kitchen, Ronald! Of course it's bad! It's awful and terrible and black and soggy!"

The three of them surveyed the wreck of a kitchen.

It had started with the Apple tart. Hermione knew very well that Ron had an incredibly crippling weakness for his mums apple and Sultana tart. She had managed to convince herself that not only could she repricate the tart perfectly; she could make it _even better._

But not having known the difference between baking powder and Floo powder (" They were both white powdery stuff, right?) And having misjudged the oven space ("It could fit 23 large tarts, right?") the only magical thing that had happened in the kitchen today was _**KA BOOM!**_

"Oh, Mrs Weasly is going to KILL me", worried Hermione, trying to sweep up the remains of the oven.

"I'm not worried about that! said Ron indignantly, us three are stuck here for the whole summer with out anyone who can cook!"

At that point Harry started to wail' "What are we going to do? What about the cheesecake! I need Cheesecake!"

He wailed this a lot of times.

But Hermiones quick eyes spotted something; she grabbed a colourful leaflet from the wreckage.

"Ron, Harry look at this!"

" The Triwizard Cookingship champion, read Ron out loud, hone your cooking skills while competing against other magical cooks."

All three of them looked up at once.

" I bet meals are supplied, said Ron, dreamily."

"And look, the auditions are on tomorrow", commented Hermione.

Harry (for once) took the intuitive.

" Lets go!"

And so three took off for the competition. Cos' they _badly _needed to learn to cook. Harry couldn't feed his Barbies lip-gloss alone, right?.

At a house, far, far away from the weasly family, a greasy haired, miserly fish git was having exactly the same idea.

" Hmm, I can cook, I cooked baked beans in the microwave just the other day."

Severus Snape perused the leaflet, the same one that he'd been about to jinx because it had arrived in his letterbox. He'd purposely put up a sign on the (normally empty) mail box that read: " No junkie mail or I will hex you."

But this leaflet had slipped in regardless ("The sheer cheek of it!") And _was actually_ turning out to be of some use.

" wormtail!"

The small, rat faced, sad, sad little man came scurrying in.

" Yes master SS?"

Snape frowned. " Ok, well, A, stop calling me that _ridiculous _ nick name and B, pack my things!"

" Er…why?"

Snape turned and smiled in what I'm sure he thought was a winning way.

" I'm going to be… The chef of a generation!"

Snape could not know, however, that he was being watched. The dark lord Voldemort (who was actually far to pale than was healthy) was watching his most loyal servant and feeling quite put out.

" I bet he thinks he can beat me, Lord Voldemort aka Tom Riddle aka He who must not be named, (here he stopped and drew breath in a reverent way), well, he's got another thing coming."

Yes, it was true that the dark Lord had never cooked anything in his life. (He'd taken a special death eater interview for the " Death weekly!" magazine and was asked to choose three words to describe his life. The first was Death. The second was glory. The third was take-out.)

But hey, once you've been as awesome as he had been, doing new things is like, meh whatever. Voldemort knew he'd be so great at cooking that he'd put all the other contestants to shame.

" And just because I feel like it, he thought, strolling leisurely along outside his dungeons, I'll order all my death eaters to enter as well. That'll teach them whose boss! They'll be no more stealing my lunch money now!".

He raced off to do just that.

Word was getting around at the Ministry of magic about a new hit competition, one that was going to be a very big deal in the wizarding world. The Ministry workers were generally regarded as the creme da creme of the society so they were all slightly embarrassed about being taken in and excited by a cooking show. But hey, you can only proof read so many articles about the rise of Sirius Black before the whole thing gets incredibly boring.

That was exactly what a wizard called Kingsley Shacklebolt was thinking as he strolled along the corridor to his boss's office. He was about to ask Rufous Scrimgour, who was head of his job, if he could take some time off work to enter. You see, unlike the previous contenders we've seen Shacklebolt _could actually cook_. He baked cakes and loved to decorate them, he was a dab hand at confit of Salmon and he was the only wizard who ever actually _cooked the lamingtons_ at the annual ministry Lamington drive.

So, this was rather a big deal for him.

He knocked on the door.

" Shackebolt! How nice of you to drop in, did you bring that new paper regarding the safety precautions of Sirius Black?"

" No."

" Well, then what can I do for you, old chap?"

Shacklebolt laid his leaflet on the desk.

Rufous read it then looked up with a horrified expression on his face.

" This is gonna take some explaining to do…"

Three hours later

" Yes! Whoopee! yelled Kingsley, running out of the office.

Yes, it had taken tears, long sappy speeches about following ones destiny, but in the end Kingsley was given the time off work and he was estastic!

" I'm going on the Triwizard cookingship", he said conversationally to a violet haired, heart shaped face girl.

" No way! the girl replied, so am I!"

"Isn't that great?"

" I am to, remarked a random shabby wizard with a " Visitors badge", So's my friend, Sirius Black."

Thankfully, Shacklebolt was to addled on excitement to protest against this.

The lift that they were standing in shuddered to a halt.

" Well, I expect to see you guys in the auditions, said the shabby wizard, where we'll be competing against one another."

There was a nasty silence as they contemplated this.

" I did not think of that", commented the violet witch.

" Er… maybe best if we don't, you know, be seen talking to each other. It might give the idea that we're all friends and that I'd be happy if you guys won, when that's not really the case."

The other two agreed with Shacklebolts words of wisdom, and hurriedly went their separate ways.

At the Triwizard Cookingship, the three judges, plus the special guest mentor were gearing up for the auditions that were on the next day.

" I hope we find some talented cooks", said Albus Dumbledore cheerfully.

" Of course we will", reminded the minister for magic, Cornilius Fudge.

The last judge, Minerva Mcgonagall did not say a word, she was only there because Albus had begged her to be a judge. She had been looking forward to a quite summer of reading and eating shortbread, but had felt duty bound to come and help her old friend out.

The guest mentor, who at this moment was racing around with a dustpan and broom, sweeping non- existent dust bunny's.

" Dobby just hopes Harry Potter will enter" he'd said earlier that day.

Yes, that's right. Dobby the house elf was the special guest mentor. His speciality was cream puddings, in case you were wondering.

" Can we practice our entrance again?" asked Fudge, twirling his lurid pink bowler hat.

Albus spun in his chair and looked at his script.

" Oh, alright, he sighed, I'll start us off."

" Welcome to the Triwizard Cookingship!"

"They've fought dragons, rescued drownded-

" Fudge, you're thinking of the actual Triwizard tournament, snapped Mcgonagall, you know, the one that only got about 10 viewers."

" Er… I'll start over, then, shall I?"

" Do get on with it!"

"They've cooked breakfasts, lunch's and dinner's but can they impress our judges?"

" That's me, Albus Dumbledore!"

" Me, Minerva Mcgonagall!"

" And I, Minister Fudge!"

" Stop, stop, stop. Its _Cornilius _Fudge, not _minister _Fudge".

"I do wish you'd stop nagging me Minerva, I have enough problems as it is, I recently lost my favourite pair of sparkly shoes-

" And you think I took them? Nasty vulgar-

" Would both of you calm down so we can finish rehearsing our lines-

" With special guest mentor, ME! DOBBY!"

Yes, you can see its going to be long competition…

Wow! That felt like one long chapter! I hope you liked it and please tell me what you think. There will be more contestants (obviously) such as Mrs Norris, Bellatrix, and many more! Next chapter will be the auditions!

Yours sincerely Evileasterrabbit


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